


The Hangover

by tsuki_llama



Series: The Office [8]
Category: Darker Than Black
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Hurt and comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-25
Updated: 2016-10-25
Packaged: 2018-08-24 13:51:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8374525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tsuki_llama/pseuds/tsuki_llama
Summary: After having one too many drinks the night before, Misaki has a rough morning.





	

Hei flinched at the tiny ting of the spoon hitting the side of the mug as he tried to silently stir in some honey. He froze, listening; after several long moments in which no sound emerged from the bedroom, he removed the spoon and gently set it in the sink to wash later. Cooking breakfast quietly had turned out to be one of the most challenging things he’d ever done - it had taken twice as long as usual to make the eggs and congee. He’d hate to ruin all that caution with a careless tap of a spoon.

Carefully, Hei picked up the congee bowl and mug of tea and padded silently down the hall, pushing open the door to the bedroom. It was mostly dark, but a sliver of bright morning light leaked in through the closed curtains, falling across Misaki’s sleeping form. She lay in an odd twisted position across the bed; Hei couldn’t tell if her shirt - his shirt, actually, she’d insisted in sleeping in it last night - was merely disheveled or if it had been buttoned unevenly. Both, probably. One hand was tangled in her hair, and the other arm dangled limply from the side of the mattress. The soft snoring muffled by the pillow to him that he’d succeeded in his mission to stay quiet. 

He balanced the dishes in one hand so that he could push her glasses and his book to the side of the nightstand, being careful not to let them scrape against the wood. Then he set the breakfast down and went to the window to tug aside one of the curtains. The sliver of light expanded into a wide rectangle that opened softly across Misaki’s cheek. She made an unintelligible murmur of complaint and turned her face further into the pillow. 

Hei gently sat down on the edge of the bed beside her and rubbed her hip. “Misaki,” he whispered. “It’s getting late; you should get up and eat something.” 

“Mmph,” was all the answer he got.

He rolled her hip towards him so that she was lying flat on her back, the sheets tangled around her legs. “Misaki.”

“Mm. What time is it?” she asked without opening her eyes.

“Just past eight.”

“Oh god, why did you let me sleep so late?” She pushed herself up, blinking blearily, only press a hand to her temple and weakly lower herself back down to the mattress. “Oh god, why is the room is spinning?”

“You probably shouldn’t have had that second shot last night. Here, this will help.” Hei picked up the mug of tea and held it near the pillow.

“I feel like I’m going to be sick. Again.”

“You need to eat and rehydrate. There’s honey in the tea.”

Misaki pulled the pillow over her head, blocking out most of the light. “We have honey?” came her muffled voice.

“I ran down to the store earlier and picked some up. It’s an old hangover cure my uncle used to swear by: tea with honey, and congee with salted duck egg.”

She slid the pillow down to reveal one bloodshot eye. “Does it work?”

“Absolutely,” Hei said. Her eye narrowed in suspicion, so he added, “Any food will help. So will tea.”

Misaki dropped the pillow and carefully pushed herself into a sitting position. Hei scooted to the head of the bed so that he could help support her. “You don’t have to spoon feed me,” she said when he raised the mug to her chapped lips.

“What if I want to?”

She snorted, then winced in pain and took the mug. “I forgot how much being hungover sucks,” she said after taking a tiny sip.

“You’ve been hungover before?” Hei asked in surprise.

“Only a couple of times,” Misaki admitted. “Each time I felt like I was dying. Like I feel now.” She took another, longer sip. “If I ever try to have two shots of anything in one night again, please knock the glass out of my hand.”

Hei passed her the bowl of congee. Her face turned slightly green at the sight of the food, but she gave him the mug and started in on the porridge. “I didn’t…I didn’t say anything…weird last night, did I?” she asked.

“Weird like what?”

“I don’t know. I just…get really chatty when I drink, and it’s all kind of hazy.”

“Well, you said enough that I think Matsumoto put it together that I’m BK-201.”

Her eyes widened. “Oh god, Hei, I’m so sorry! I know you wanted to keep that secret for a while longer…”

“It’s okay,” he shrugged. “It was partly my fault too. And…he seemed okay with it? The others don’t know yet; I don’t think I’m ready to tell them.”

“Of course he’d be okay with it; I keep telling you - well, never mind. Was that it?”

Hei hesitated. “Everyone pretty much knows we’re seeing each other now.”

Misaki’s face went white; her hand froze with the spoon halfway to her mouth. “I just came right out and said that?” she said, horrified.

“No. But you kept touching my face, and my knee, and you told everyone that you’re going to give me a key to your apartment because I’m already living here."

The spoon fell into the congee with a plop, and Misaki buried her face in his shoulder. “That was the worst thing I could possibly say,” she moaned into his t-shirt. “How did they react?”

Hei moved the bowl of porridge to the table where it couldn’t spill, and wrapped his arm around her waist. “They were too surprised to say anything, and we left right after that.”

“Shit.”

“It won’t be that bad,” he assured her. “You said yourself that there’s no policy against dating between superiors and subordinates, so you can’t get in trouble. It’s only Saturday; I can find a place and move out tomorrow.”

Misaki abruptly pushed herself back to stare at him. “What are you talking about?”

“The story I gave them was that I needed a place to stay at the last minute and you invited me over. We can still go with that; you won’t have to lose face at all.”

“Do you…want to move out?”

“Well, no, but…I thought you didn’t want your team to know that you were sleeping with a contractor. If I leave, they don’t have to know. They’ll just think that they misinterpreted things; everyone was drinking after all.” He already spent every day working next to her without being able to touch her; it really wouldn’t be much different. He’d eventually get over a separation. Maybe.

“Hei, it has nothing to do with you! I’ve been so happy sharing my life with you these past couple of months, and I’m - I’m tired of hiding it. It’s just…” She trailed off, and looked away. “I don’t want my team to know that I’m dating anyone; if they know I’m only human, how can they respect me?”

It was Hei’s turn to stare. He took in her tangled hair, her bloodshot eyes, and terribly-buttoned shirt. He’d never seen her looking more beautiful. “Misaki, of course they know you’re human. It’s why they respect you, and why they’ll follow you anywhere. It’s why I’ll follow you anywhere.”

She gazed at him, speechless.

He continued, hope blooming in his heart, “You keep telling me that I’m wrong about how they’ll react to knowing the truth about me, and I’m sure that you’re wrong about how they see you. Why don’t we go to the office like normal on Monday, except…together. And see what happens.”

“Okay. If I’m still alive, anyway.” She sagged against his chest and closed her eyes. “There’s something in the nightstand drawer for you.”

Hei shifted her weight so that he could pull open the drawer. Inside was a flat package about the size of his thumb, wrapped in brown paper. He picked it up and handed it to her, but she pressed it back into his hand.

“Happy birthday. And…thanks for taking care of me.”

He kissed the top of her head. “Thanks for letting me.”


End file.
